


If you speak to a man in his own language (it goes to his heart)

by nefariosity



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Cultural Differences, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25437157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nefariosity/pseuds/nefariosity
Summary: Agent Kallus, then Kal, and now Sasha. Kallus has been called by many names over the years. He didn't think he'd ever have it better than this. Zeb is about to prove him wrong.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 8
Kudos: 131





	If you speak to a man in his own language (it goes to his heart)

**Author's Note:**

> New to the fandom, even newer to the ship, but I fell hard and fast for these boys' love for each other. I'm coming most recently from the world of Yuri On Ice fanfiction, which deals a LOT with the nuanced layers of nicknames in Russian culture, outlined beautifully in [this](https://niedolia.tumblr.com/post/158793053134/psa-for-the-yoi-fandom-russian-names-how-to-use) post. I thought about it a lot reading fics where Zeb calls Kallus "Sasha", and all I could think is WHERE IS ALEXSANDR'S PET NAME? Now you know. Shamelessly just straight up stole Russian for Kallus's maternal tongue, as well as borrowed a couple phrases from the amazing [Anath_Tsurugi's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anath_Tsurugi/pseuds/Anath_Tsurugi) definitive Lasan. No smut yet but I don't think my shame and anxiety will outweigh my need to write for long. Wrote this in about 2 hours (!!!!!!) and didn't self-edit as much as I usually do, so forgive me if there are mistakes.

  
It was as normal a morning as it ever was on Yavin IV. The crew of the Ghost was on base for a few days to rest up and resupply after a string of missions and Alexsandr Kallus had spent the night enjoyably - and mostly sleeplessly - on the Ghost. He anticipated the arrangement would stand as long as the ghost was planetside. But no matter how late he and Zeb kept each other up, they both still had duties to attend to during the day, Kallus especially. Draven wasn't one to let him slack just because his mate was - finally, briefly - back on planet. 

Kallus was slumped at the table in the mess, nursing a cup of very strong caf when the morning took a turn for the considerably less normal. Zeb, gods-damn the man, swaggered into the mess looking quite refreshed and just a little smug. He squeezed onto the bench next to Kallus, briefly rubbing their cheeks together in a Lasat kiss and then pecking him on the corner of his mouth in a human one. Kallus, still half asleep, rubbed his face back in an extremely uncoordinated manner. "Mornin', _Sashulya_." Zeb said. He smirked, then grimaced. "Kriff, that caf smells strong." 

Kallus snapped instantly to full alertness, frozen in shock. He didn't hear Zeb's second sentence, still trying to process the first. 

"What did you say?" he croaked. " _Sashulya--?"_

_His father, calling him to dinner, singing him to sleep -- his mother's hand gently brushing his hair out of his face as his eyes slide shut - spokonoy nochi, Sashura --_

Zeb took in his shocked look and smirked, his lips spreading wide and his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Heh, I was right! Balmorran! Sabine owes me twenty credits!" 

Kallus was still trying to get his bearings. 

Although he had been born on Coruscant, he had been born into a family of Balmorran refugees, and had grown up in a community of Balmorran immigrants, immersed in that language and culture. His parents, having moved to Coruscant when his mother was pregnant for the sole purpose of giving Kallus a chance at a better life, spoke Basic around him as well as they could, scrimped and saved to send him to a mid-tier school so that he might speak Basic as only a Coruscanti native could. But Kallus's first language had been Russka, the language of the poorer Balmorran mining communities. He could barely fumble along in the langauge now, but he could still understand it. He'd heard snippets of it here and there, over the past twenty years or so, and each time, it had taken all his ISB training to not whip his head around, looking for someone - someones - he knew that he would never see again. 

To hear a Russkan diminutive form of his name fall from _Zeb's_ lips... 

"Hey now," he heard Zeb's voice as if from far away. Kallus wondered how long he'd been sitting there, frozen. "Sa-- Alexsandr -- I didn't mean -- are you -- _kriff_. I've done it, haven't I." Kallus took a deep breath in through his nose and shook his head. He found Zeb's hand under the table, gave it a squeeze.

"Sorry, _ni ashkerra_ ," he said. "I'm fine, you just took me by surprise." He pressed his shoulder up against his mate's, turned to look at him so Zeb could see his now relaxed face. "And you're right - Balmorran. Where in the galaxy did you -- ?" 

"Balmorra, actually." said Zeb. He looked sheepish, relieved that Kallus wasn't angry. "Not too surprised ya didn' know we were there - just an overnight thing. Uneventful supply run. Met a bloke named Sasha though - two of 'em! Common name?" Kallus nodded, gestured for Zeb to go on. "Never really heard it before meetin' you, so I had to ask if it was short for Alexsander - I've never understood that one - and it was! We had a coupla cold ones together, told him I was sweet on a Sasha, and he gave me a whole list -" and here, Zeb pulled a crumpled flimsi from his pocket, which Kallus picked up to examine with interest. "a whole lista nicknames I could call ya if I really wanted to treat you proper, the Balmorran way. He said, the other Sasha, that it was cold, only using Sasha, or Kal..." 

_Alexandrushka, Aleksanya, Aleksaha, Sashulya, Sashunya, Shura, Shurunya_ , Sashura -- 

"Not cold," murmured Kallus, his fingers tracing the words. He could almost hear his mother's voice. "I'm not Balmorran, but my parents were. I don't know the ins and outs of Russkan diminutives - nicknames," he added hastily, feeling Zeb's eye roll next to him. "And, oh, Zeb. My Garazeb. You were the first one in twenty years to call me Alexsandr, the first one in twenty-five to call me Sasha. The first one to see the real me since I entered the Academy." 

"Sasha," said Zeb. He stroked Kallus's cheek. Kallus leaned into his mate's hand, closing his eyes. How had he gotten so lucky to find this being, to love him and be loved by him?

"My mother called me Sashura," he said. "In Russka - that's the language, not Balmorran - you can have many nicknames. Sasha is my common name - even casual friends can use it. That list you have there, those are all, well, pet names. For parents, and lovers." 

"Hmmm," purred Zeb, deep in his chest. And _kriff_ , that shouldn't affect Kallus the way it did, not when he was dead on his feet and still _quite_ satifisfied from the night before. "Well, that's me - last I checked." He pulled Kallus into his lap. " _My Sashura._ " 

"You're going to be a menace about this, aren't you?" groaned Kallus, hiding his face in Zeb's chest. 

"Yup," said Zeb. Kallus couldn't see his face, but he could _hear_ the grin. "You can bet your arse on that." 

Kallus tilted his head back. "My arse, hmm? Well I won't make that bet. At least not until tomorrow. You gave me _quite_ a seeing to last night, Garazeb." 

Zeb groaned and dug just the tiniest bit of claw into the arse in question, making Kallus arch and gasp. "That filthy mouth of yours, _Sashura_. You'd better run along off to Draven before I decide to have you right here." 

"Please don't," called out a voice from the crew quarters. Sabine. Zeb and Kallus froze. "We eat there. You have a room, you know." Kallus let his head drop back to Zeb's chest and groaned again, this time in resigned embarassment. They took a few minutes to just enjoy being in each other's arms before they were pulled back to their duties. It was almost unbearable, to think that he'd have to work all day, focus all day, knowing that Zeb was just a few steps rather than hundreds of lightyears away. 

" _L'ashkerrir an_ ," he murmured into the side of Zeb's neck. He held tightly, wishing he never had to let go. _I love you_. 

Zeb gripped him just as tightly. " _Ya tebya lyublyu_ ," he whispered into the top of Kallus's head, and Kallus felt his eyes prick. Garazeb must have asked that other Sasha how to say those words, must have written them down in his spiky script of his, practiced them in his cabin on the way back. He hadn't heard those words in so long... 

In just a moment, he'd get up, get to his office in intelligence. Zeb would too, would doubtless be pulled into security meetings all day. They'd get up. They would. They knew their duties, knew how important their work was to the rebellion, knew how important the rebellion was for the sake of every sentient in the galaxy. _But the rebellion will still be there in a few minutes,_ thought Kallus. 

**Author's Note:**

> All the diminutives for Alexander listed are REAL and that is not even the whole list I found. Russian is crazy. 
> 
> Title is from a quote by Nelson Mandela: “If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his own language, that goes to his heart.”


End file.
